


How to Be Hummin

by cliffsofmemory



Category: Foundation - Isaac Asimov, Robot Series - Isaac Asimov
Genre: Canon Divergent, Dads AU, Foundation Spoilers, M/M, OK lots of sap now, Prelude to Foundation Spoilers, Some Sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-06-10 12:43:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6956887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cliffsofmemory/pseuds/cliffsofmemory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elijah is helping Hummin prepare for his first day of work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Starting a new life is not easy. He hasn’t had to do it in a while, but this time it seems like the best option. Demerzel has to exist, and can do large-scale things from his position. But they need someone who can work on the ground and find an excuse to go anywhere. And journalists, in Elijah’s words, “never stop being the most pushy kinds of people. They're the best when it comes to going secret places and knowing secret things.” So Hummin will come to be.

And they have been preparing for it. Daneel has been writing freelance articles for a while, trying to settle on a Trantor persona and make a name for himself apart from the already active Demerzel. Now he’s been offered a job at the _Tribune_ in the Imperial Sector. They considered for a while. Elijah was worried about the risks of taking another job too close to the Palace, but Daneel pointed out that the trouble of traveling across several sectors every day to get work done in both would perhaps become more noticeable, especially if they were to save any money and avoid using private transport only. And establishment at a paper with clout like this one will give him the access - and connections - he needs to keep up humanistic work. Without the inextricable strings of Demerzel’s position. And this position, while on-staff, will only require Hummin’s presence in the office at occasional meetings and during large article planning sessions, so he can be flexible about his appearances.

So Daneel takes the offer, and Elijah forges a few more tax history forms, and they write down Elijah’s current alias as the emergency contact, plus a burner number for Dors without her real name. And thankfully the _Tribune_ isn’t in the business of requiring drug tests as part of its pre-hire screenings, so they don’t have to set up some way for Daneel to fake that. And then it’s time for his first staff meeting, close to the first day of Trantor’s summer. This will be his first real entry into Hummin in person.

(The week before, after the official acceptance and after Hummin’s paperwork went through, the editor sends a message: “why don’t you come to the first staff meeting on Tuesday, it’ll be a good introduction.” Hummin sends back his “I’ll be there!” confirmation. And tells Elijah, and settles Demerzel’s presence out of the Palace that day. And then the weekend before, Elijah says, “We can meet up after the meeting, if you want. What time does it start?” And Daneel just freezes for a second, thinking, and then looks up at him in horror. “I don’t know.” A quick follow-up message to the editor settles that - and really, the editor is more embarrassed that they didn’t include that info in the first time - but Elijah keeps laughing about the idea of Daneel showing up four hours early for what could have been a noon meeting.)

The night before the meeting, suddenly Daneel is overwhelmed with decisions. He gets out of bed before light and slips around the apartment, considering various items that he might find useful to bring to the office. Examines the outfits he’s chosen. Elijah wakes up just as the sector’s light is entering their window, and sees pants and shirts on every surface in their room. Several of them are Elijah’s.

He slides out from under the blanket and sits on the edge of the bed. “Daneel, are you all right?”

Daneel looks up from the other side of the room with two shirts hanging from each arm. “I have begun to be overwhelmed with questions.” His expression, even in the shadowy dawn light, is so clearly miserable. “The closer the meeting comes, the more possible scenarios I find myself forced to consider. There are so many mistakes I could make.”

“Don’t you feel like this every time you start to take on a new life?”

“Life” was Elijah’s idea. He rarely says “persona” or “alias” to Daneel. He finds it appropriate for himself, but so far he has seen Daneel slip into new roles with such completeness that he finds a more natural term is necessary. Daneel accepts this readily - it lets him think of these wedges of his existence as legitimate in their own way.

Elijah keeps his seat on the bed and holds out his arm to Daneel, who carries the shirts with him until he reaches their nightstand, drops the shirts onto it, and stands before him. He lets Elijah take his hands and pull them onto his own shoulders. Elijah keeps hold of him and looks up between their pairs of arms into Daneel’s softening smile.

“Yes,” Daneel murmurs, in answer to Elijah’s reminder. “And some tasks of making Hummin real are going to be easier because I have practiced them in other lives. But the uncertainty of today still feels uncomfortable.” 

“You could meet so many incredible people who will help us keep the Empire safe.”

“Yes.”

“Remember to breathe.”

“Yes.” Daneel massages Elijah’s shoulders where his hands rest.

“You know what Hummin is like.”

“I do.” Daneel looks over the room, eyes trailing from shirt to shirt. He gives a little squeeze and Elijah lets him pull his hands away and walk over to the window, pick up a pair of slacks, and wander back, snatching up a shirt on his way. He lays both next to Elijah, looks up at him, gets a smile.

So Daneel starts to get dressed, and Elijah follows his own instincts into the kitchen to start coffee and breakfast for himself. When Daneel joins him in the new ensemble, Elijah gives him the traditional up-and-down. “I have to admit my own bias. You look good in everything. I mean, you would look good in...” He cuts himself off at Daneel’s insistent look - "The point is you look very ‘Hummin,’ as far as that goes. You look...like you’re ready to pull your weight and stop anyone in their tracks who tries to impede you.”

“Thank you, Elijah. That is very comforting.” Lije smirks at him and hands him a thermos.

When Daneel packs his bag for the day, it includes a lunch. He may not be required to stay at the paper’s offices all morning, but it will be useful to have in case that changes. And if not, he can hand it off to Elijah once they meet back up.

On his way to the _Tribune_ , he is alerted every few minutes to new messages of encouragement from Elijah.

**remember that you are an actual published journalist this is real**

**you can be sure they’ve all read your expose on billibotton housing loopholes**  

**and are so proud to have you on their paper**  

**You are so good at this**  

**not to mention you will be the oldest person there, so don’t be afraid to play the “wise beyond ur years” game bc you can**

**Let me know if you want me to bring Dors for lunch after**

**Also if they actually have gold pens there like that one rumor can i have one**  

**Maybe save the gold pen for when you’re a few months in**

**you don’t have to get all the connections right away too you can just make friends**  

**at your own pace**

**you deserve this job and they are lucky to have you**

By the time he reaches the offices and is making his way to the staff meeting, checking the flood of messages that are still singing his praises, he looks like any other very busy journalist juggling multiple contacts, messages, and plans. The editor-in-chief meets him at the door, shakes his hand, compliments his final submission to them as a freelance reporter, his multi-page piece about the cutting of engineering departments at Streeling, and they talk for a few minutes about recent air-jet improvements. Hummin makes a quick note of a name to talk to about something like that for the future. And they go into the meeting.


	2. A Light Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired directly by "ask memes" sent by Morgan:  
> "I love you" said as a hello, and "on a sunny Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair"  
> (I took liberty with the lateness of the afternooon.)

Hummin is pleased to find how quickly things proceed at the _Tribune_ 's staff meetings. Their editors seem to run a tight ship, the kind which is kept moving forward on the momentum of its people’s love for the work. After the moment of introduction in which the editor praises his recent writings, and a few journalists in adjacent fields (and one person who he learns is from the Style department) shake his hand and make a point of saying they’re glad he’s on the team), the crew gets down to the business of considering articles. He watches quietly from one of the many occupied chairs along the wall in the crowded conference room as, in an order so rapid he can’t tell if it’s assigned from long practice or evolving naturally in the room after years of familiarity with one another’s voices, one after another, journalists pipe up with their proposals and the editors offer succinct feedback. Hummin has come prepared with a mental list of his own, but it turns out that one of the editors has an assignment for him, which he’s glad to take.

Then, after a breezy hour and a half, they’re released. A few more contributors greet him as they pass by the concessions table on their way out. He pulls out his phone again only as he’s leaving the reception area, and finds that Elijah apparently subsided the texting after the meeting’s scheduled time. He sees only one new message.

**Dors can’t make it to lunch, wants to meet up later. Let me know when you’re free and I’ll meet you nearby. Can’t wait to hear your review of the mtg**

Daneel sends a message to Elijah with confirmation that he’s heading outside soon, and receives a picture of a grand fountain a block away, filled with the soft glow of today’s dome light. He turns in that direction on his way down the steps.

When he sees Elijah waiting on the opposite corner of the intersection, smile already growing and waiting to catch his eye, he almost steps forward against the light. Tugged by Elijah’s joy, his brightness, he hums with the urge to be closer to him. As the light changes, while Elijah hesitates and scratches his neck, realizing it would be awkward to progress away from the direction they’re headed, Daneel surges toward him, weaves through the many lunch-bound bodies and finally steps up onto the curb, into Elijah’s space. He slips his arms around him to lay his cheek against his partner’s hair, fluffed and warmed by the ambient approximation of summer, its heat and slight humidity. Elijah lets himself be held this way, smiles into the comfort, knowing that Daneel has been buzzing with slight unease during a long period of false identity, no matter how ready he may have been to take it on. His fingers lightly circle at the base of Daneel’s neck, calming, and he murmurs, “I love you.”

Daneel relaxes his grip a little, and pulls back to smile at Elijah’s half-red face. “I love you. You look so very alive at this moment.”

“It’s the spray from the fountain still on me. I’m sure it lends my old face a little dewyness.”

Unable to resist tracing a hand down the edge of Elijah’s temple, indeed slighty textured with tiny drops of water, Daneel smiles. “Maybe that adds something,” he says, with unabashed candor that has Elijah quirking an eyebrow. “But I am always so happy to see you vital and in good spirits, Elijah.”

Now the damp face blushes hard, and dips for cover under Daneel’s chin.

“To keep you in that state, I’d like to offer you lunch. Are you still interested in the meal you packed for me?”

Elijah has not recovered quite enough to look up, but he mumbles into Daneel’s collar, “Never pack you anything I wouldn’t eat myself.”


End file.
